Lyrics:
eyesight
We're too old souls back to life
Stalking you stalking me
Truth be told you're never free
All those old DVD's I thought I told you to leave
You know
fake
You could say what you want you can keep talking shit
I'm not listening get the fuck out of my face
Forget that you know me admit that you'll be
Could be dash, go out and hustle 'em
But I hate money coz it makes me numb
Hustle hustle hustle
Grind grind grind
Why has everyone got hustle
the orgies
Couple demons came to try and test me
I let off some shots without a warning
Now I'm drunk in nights at karaoke
What a life to live in all its glory
they guts,
Leave pussy so gushi, overflowin with nuts,
I'm a hellified, superfied, pickle slingin' mack,
Dick like a stick breakin' off in your back,
is
Infecting, limitless no one gives my penicillin
Sin, tax leaves a burden to be judged by the gods
The sentence is odd
Seek approval of the people in
screens
So cut it out, you ain't now Don Juan, please
I stay spillin' Dom on my Sean John jeans
I hit the bar, yo, it's all on me
Pop bottles, models,
[Intro]
Just Blaze, yeah
Check me out now
Yo, yo, yo, yo, check me out now
Yo, yo, yo,
Let me hear ya say
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
Put your
the appropriate card
Oh yeah, happy birthday by the way
ct least that's one thing I have to say out of the way
I need to think so I make a cup of tea
I sit down
H-A-Dub-K, Lil B, yeah we gon make it
We gon make it, we gon make it
They see me stepping out thoed
Guerilla Maab type thug representing for
insane
Don't say shit to me
Nah
Nah
Nah
I don't fuck with sheep
Tho they say I'm the goat
Blood in the leaves
Blood on the tree
I wanna
Send them
fifty
Can't you tell by my cut why I'm pimpin'
And if I hit one time she's limpin'
And if he trick one dime he's simpin'
'Cause we don't do it like
poetic genius
My thread of conscious
Handcrafted by the hands of a seamstress
Black atom, my mathematics
Defines quantum physics
This is gold metal rap
I
to the beat i'm raping it AHHH
If you fuck with me we all g
Fuck with me like in an orgy
I got a little story
Mind you it might get gory
Blood on the walls
and span
I ride 28 inches on my creepy black van
And you can catch me posted up down by the trailer park
I'm selling bootleg movies from noon to dark
But
other night
Half a dozen—one to my brother, two to my cousin
Now that leaves me three of 'em
And now we buzzin', sippin' on Cris' fa sho
And now you
they be giving up
They ain't built like us
We been rejected by to many
I don't give a fuck
I did it with out having it
(Huh)
They can't even manage it
ain't poppa
Your nigga broke or he a chain swapper
I been poppin' all them
Niggas since the bottom
Tell a bitch to let me leave wit' a story
Nigga why you
out to all the refugee gangs around the world
Signal, signal, y'all need to chill with the drive-by's
It was the fourth of July I heard the cherry bomb
motherfucker
That nigga me
And he grew up on poverty
Grew up on robbery
Grew up on ebt
He grew up on dvd's
Grew up had to wash the ones down
Just to keep em
Ooh¡Âbaby
Ooh¡Âbaby
Ooh¡Âooh¡Âooh¡Â
Since the day I saw you, baby, I knew you were for me
Always all by myself, I sought your
like that d-v-d
I'm not your friend
I won't even pretend to send you a heart
Someone get the fortnite cart
Cuz we need to get out of here
She would yell
no noise
She want me to call up one my homeboys
This bitch she a thot leave her so sore
She won’t leave from my house cus she want more
She chocolate
at the shoot out,
With secret servicemen, it's Ill Bill Non Phixion!
We pop biscuits at these pop musicians -
Claimin' hip-hop, you get your mop twisted!
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